My First Love Died on My 17th Birthday — Thirty Years Later, a Young Woman Who Looked Exactly Like Her Appeared at My Door

person I had ever been certain I would spend my life with.

We had been seventeen.

Adults looked at us with those amused, skeptical smiles reserved for young couples. They called us a phase. A teenage obsession. Something we’d eventually outgrow.

We never bothered arguing.

They couldn’t understand what we had.

Lily and I weren’t pretending.

We had plans.

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